


Jealous

by rinthegreat



Series: Random Hat Prompts [5]
Category: Free!
Genre: Getting Together, Haru's an idiot with feelings, M/M, Post-Canon, Sousuke and Rin figured out their shit before Makoto and Haru how is that even possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Makoto’s being strange.”  That’s really the only way he knows how to say it.</p>
<p>Expressions flicker rapidly over Rin’s face before it settles into a carefully blank mask.  “What do you mean, strange?”  He asks, each word spoken as if it had been contemplated over a thousand times.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how to explain it properly, but Rin’s giving him that look and Yamazaki can only pretend to make tea for so long, so he has to say something.  “He’s helping this underclassman out of the water instead of me.”</p>
<p>AKA: that one request from over a year ago that I've totally butchered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scented_Candles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scented_Candles/gifts).



> Scented_Candles requested:  
> hmmm, how about makoto gets a nitori-ish kohai who is touchy like nagisa and also asks to be pulled out of the pool like haru? like makoto would pull haru out of the pool and he'd be like "me too sempai" and sometimes makoto would pull him out first or forget to do it for haru because his kohasi is so exuberant and wants his attention. haru who has been preoccupied with "holding rin back" angst and hasn't been a very good friend notices how makoto is soft on the kohai and does not like that at all. rin finds haru's irritation and jealousy hilarious and sousuke thinks he deserves it (but is secretly kind of rooting for makoharu) makoharu endgame.
> 
> So this is...not that. Um. It got out of my hands. And it's been a year since you requested that. Please forgive me? Also this is my first MakoHaru fic. So...that's a thing.

            Things are different when Haru moves to Tokyo.  For one thing, he has to pay his own bills, so taking a thirty minute shower has serious consequences, as he learned in the first month.  For another, though he’s pursuing his newfound dream of swimming competitively, Rin’s too far away and he doesn’t have anyone on the team he considers his friend who he can pursue it with.  And finally, speaking of friends, he hardly ever gets to see them anymore.

            At first, Nagisa and Kou text him constantly, almost daily updates on their new swim team and training regimen.  Kou gives up after a week of Haru not responding.  Nagisa takes nearly two weeks.  Haru would feel bad about it, but he knows Makoto keeps in good contact with them, and Makoto’s the only one who Haru sees anymore.

            Until he doesn’t.

            In their first few weeks, Makoto would drop by after class and do his homework while Haru cooked.  But soon enough, his swimming schedule picked up and Makoto started to do his school work at his own apartment.

            He knows Makoto goes back to Iwatobi sometimes.  He would go with him, really he would, but his training schedule has gotten nearly as demanding as Rin’s, and any thoughts of free time go flying out the window. 

            It isn’t until just before the holidays that Haru gets any time off at all.  He takes advantage of it and joins Makoto going home a full two days before the universities let them out. 

            They haven’t seen each other for months, something Haru knows is mostly his fault.  He sits a little closer on the train, and Makoto just smiles that knowing little smile of his, wordlessly forgiving him.

            Makoto still seems to know him just as well as he ever did, and the first thing they do when they get back to Iwatobi is head to the pool.  The team, riding on the success of their seniors the year before, have finally been able to afford practice time at an indoor pool other than Samezuka’s.  It’s a testament to how many times Makoto’s been back that he walks straight there without pausing to think.

            Haru recognizes Nagisa’s enthusiastic splashing and Rei’s still hesitant strokes the moment they step inside.  He hasn’t been away from a pool for more than a day, but still the smell of chlorine calms him, reminds him of home.  He closes his eyes and just breathes the scent in, ignoring the swimmers in the pool and Makoto next to him.  Until a voice breaks him from his reverie.

            “Tachibana-senpai!”

            His eyes fly open, and he’s surprised to find a cold emptiness in the spot next to him that Makoto had just occupied.  The man in question is over at the pool edge, leaning over the block, talking to someone Haru doesn’t recognize.  His stomach flips, and he frowns at the scene before him.  Aside from the first exclamation, Haru can’t make out the words that are being exchanged.  What he does understand is the bright smile on Makoto’s face as he listens to the babbling swimmer and the stance Makoto takes, leaning down, hand outstretched.

            Haru jerks forward automatically but stops himself at the last second, frown deepening.  He isn’t even sure why he moved; he’s not the one Makoto’s offering to help out of the pool.

            The kid accepts Makoto’s hand and climbs out of the pool, grinning and still chattering on about something that Haru is dead positive he doesn’t care about.  Even if Makoto appears to. 

            “Haru-chan!”

            “Haruka-senpai!”

            Rei and Nagisa’s shouts echo across the deck, making Kou look up from her notes.  She smiles, closes her book, and joins the other two as they dart out of the pool to meet Haru.  He’s quite nearly tackled by Nagisa, but Rei grabs the others by the goggles draped around his neck, and the blonde is forced to shake Haru’s hand by way of reunion instead.

            “I didn’t know you were planning to come,” Rei tells him, making a move to push up his glasses before he realizes they aren’t there in the first place.  He hasn’t changed a bit.

            Nagisa nods, still leashed by the other.  “Mako-chan didn’t say anything about it.”

            He shrugs and looks away, not enjoying having their full attention on him.  “It’s the holidays.”

            “Does that mean Rin-chan’s coming back too?”

            Kou shakes her head a little sadly, but Makoto’s the one who answers.  “No, Rin’s team doubles their practice schedule over the holidays because they don’t have school.”  He’s approaching them, trailed by the kid he pulled out of the water earlier and some other new Iwatobi swimmers Haru doesn’t recognize.  Nagisa and Rei must be giving Makoto looks of confusion, though, because the taller boy shrugs.  “Yamazaki told me.”  Ah right.  Haru had almost forgotten that they were in classes together.  Which means Makoto has time to study and hang out with Yamazaki but not _him_ …

            “Oniichan’s really busy with his training.  He said he might not have a chance to come back to Japan till after New Year’s…”

            Haru tries not to be too disappointed.  They knew this would happen.  Rin’s off training in Australia, and Haru stayed behind to train in Japan.  They’ll meet in the pool eventually.  Makoto gives him a pitying look, and Haru looks away.  He knows Makoto thinks he’s in love with Rin still; Haru’s just not sure how to go about telling him that he’s not.

            But before he can do anything, Rei’s ushering him away.  “Haruka-senpai, I’ve been working on my freestyle form, and I was wondering if I could get your input since your stroke is so beautiful…”

            “Yeah, sure.”  Haru lets himself get led away from the group to watch Rei.

* * *

 

            They agree to come back the next day to watch practice from the beginning.  Makoto stops by Haru’s house, knocking politely on the front door before going around the back.  Haru sinks his head under the water when he hears the back door open.  He isn’t sure why he’s being so petty.  He’s ready to get out of the tub, and he heard Makoto arrive.  He could’ve just gotten up.

            “Haru-chan, are you ready to go?”  Comes the muffled question outside the water.

            Haru emerges from the water and shakes the hair out of his face.  Makoto’s hand is extended in front of him expectantly.  It shouldn’t feel like a victory, but it does.  Haru accepts it and gets out of the bath.  “Yeah.”

            They swim with the team this time.  Haru ignores them all as they go about their stretching and dives into the water, feeling it cocoon itself around him.  It hasn’t been long since he’s last swum, but every minute feels like a lifetime to him.  He warms up a lazy 400 meters before stopping at the wall and finally glancing around at the others.

            The team is done stretching and most are already preparing to jump in the water.  It’s clear, from the glances he’s getting, that the underclassmen are too intimidated to join Haru in his lane.  Ah whatever, Makoto will join him anyway.

            But Makoto doesn’t join him.  He’s ushered away by the underclassman from the day before, encouraged to share the lane with him instead.  Haru only has a moment to be irritated, though, before Rei is standing in front of him.

            “Haruka-senpai, do you mind if I share the lane?”  Rei doesn’t need to ask.  He and Nagisa are Haru’s friends; he wouldn’t turn down swimming with them.  Haru nods though and scoots out of the way to make room for the butterflier.

            Nagisa seems to be joining another underclassman in a different lane, and Haru notes that, though the team has grown in his and Makoto’s absence, it’s still rather small.  He doubts that the new swimmers swam in middle school.  At least not competitively.

            His eyes rake over Makoto’s back as the former swimmer warms up.  Makoto’s strokes are unsure at first, as if he’d forgotten the motions in all that time out of the water.  He’s lost a little muscle mass since entering college, though Haru knows he goes to the gym several times a week.  It’s not the same though, and he knows Kou would agree with him.  A little too adamantly.

            Haru tries to shake off the irritation as practice wears on, but it doesn’t quite work in his favor.  The water soothes him every time he pushes off the wall, but once his head is back above the blissful silence, his ears and eyes are assaulted with the knowledge that Makoto is _not here with him_.

            By the end, he’s a strange mix of relaxed and wound up.  Rei and Kou give him permission to keep swimming, but Haru just shakes his head.  As much as he’d love to, he’s supposed to be on break.

            Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Makoto climb out of the pool.  A little impatiently, Haru waits for the other to come over and help him out of the pool.  When Makoto doesn’t immediately appear, he glares over to see what’s taking so long.

            With a jolt, he realizes that Makoto’s helping the underclassman out again.

            Haru lets out a huff of irritation and drags himself out of the water.  It isn’t like he _needs_ help.  He just…it’s his and Makoto’s thing.  He doesn’t appreciate some _unknown side character_ taking that away from them. 

            He hardly gets to see Makoto anymore as it is.

            He makes to brush past them, to ignore them as he gets his bag, but Makoto’s voice makes him pause.  “Oh, Haru-chan.  Rei and Nagisa want to introduce you to the team.  Properly, you know.”

            It’s not a request he can just turn down; it’s not unreasonable.  Besides, he’d just wordlessly joined their practice.  “Let me grab my towel,” he answers, not turning back.

            They stand around in an awkward circle – well to be fair, Haru’s most likely the only one who finds it awkward – as Kou goes over their results of the day and what each individual swimmer needs to work on, complete with meal plans for the break she’s made for everyone.  Haru has to give her credit; she’s really come into her own as a manager.  He just hopes the food she makes now isn’t anywhere as disgusting as the batch of protein powder laden curry she’d nearly force fed them.

            “Thanks, Gou-chan,” Nagisa chirps, ignoring the glare and Kou’s mutter of “Kou”.  “As you probably noticed, we have a special guest today.  Haru-chan, introduce yourself.”

            He’s had to do this a thousand times with a thousand different first year related activities, but that doesn’t make the whole introduction thing any easier on him.  “Nanase Haruka,” he states blandly.  “I attend university in Tokyo, and I swim for their team.”

            They go around the circle, names flying in one of Haru’s ears and out the other.  Oda…Hinata…Kise…Takahashi.  That’s the name that sticks in his mind.  Takahashi.  He has a smile that’s more annoying than Rin’s, and he flashes it as he announces his name and that this is his first year of swimming in high school.  He’d swum in elementary school but had tried other sports in middle school.  The details don’t interest Haru.  What does interest him is the way the other bumps Makoto when he sways and how close he’s standing to the former swimmer.

            How he makes sure to shout a special goodbye to “Tachibana-senpai!” as they part ways at the door entrance.

            Haru’s in a bad mood, and he doesn’t know why.  But Makoto notices.  He bumps his shoulder against Haru’s own.  “It’s not the same without Rin, is it?”  He asks, that knowing tone in his voice, and for once Makoto can’t read his mind.

            He wonders if they haven’t been spending enough time together lately for Makoto to read him anymore.

            He’s never had to correct Makoto before, and Haru doesn’t know how to go about it now.  The change of topic from his own thoughts is welcome though, so he grasps at it.  “How is he?”

            Makoto smiles at him, tinged with the smallest hint of sadness at the edges, like he always gets when they talk about Rin.  Haru doesn’t get why he’s so sad.  This time won’t be like the last time.  Rin _promised_.  “Yamazaki said he’s doing well.  He’s been kept busy between training and school, but I guess he likes that.”  There’s a pause.  “They’re together now, you know.”

            Haru gives him a sideways glance, notices the nervous tick in how the other ducks his head.  “I know,” he says finally, looking forward again when Makoto’s head jerks surprised towards him.

            “Eh?”

            Haru just shrugs.  It’s too complicated and troublesome to explain, so he lets the conversation drop.

            But Makoto keeps giving him these worrying glances, like he’s afraid Haru’s upset about the whole thing, and Haru almost tells him. 

            But it’s still too embarrassing.

            Rin had found him just before graduation.  “I want one more race before college,” he’d said the moment Haru had answered the fiftieth ring of the doorbell.

            “I haven’t been training,” Haru had confessed passively, though he knew that wouldn’t be enough to placate Rin.  Despite accepting that he wanted to swim, he’d still been a little loathe to enter a pool again so soon after nationals.  He knew he’d have to sooner or later, but he wasn’t ready yet.  Not that Rin knew that.

            “Please, Haru?  It could be years before we meet on the international stage.  Just one more race.”  The redhead had seemed so antsy, full of nervous energy, and he wasn’t looking at Haru. 

            He’d thought he was still in love with Rin at the time, and he’d never really been very good at telling him “no”.  “Fine.”

            Rin had alternated between nervous chattering and awkward silences the whole way to Samezuka, leaving Haru relieved when they finally reached the natatorium and he could shove off all pretenses of conversation.

            They were both already wearing their suits under their clothes, but Rin was no longer the anxious mess he’d been before.  The redhead had jumped in the water first, and Haru had stood there, gathering his courage to re-enter the source of the last year’s trauma, before the splash of a flip turn on the other end of the pool prompted him to shuck off the last of his clothes and join Rin in the water.

            Rin might’ve asked Haru to go there for his own selfish reasons, but it was another relief to Haru.  Just like Australia.  He took his time, reacquainting himself with the pool, and when he’d finally had enough, Rin was already hugging the wall with a grin.

            “You look back to normal,” the redhead had declared, and Haru looked away, embarrassed.

            They’d climbed on the blocks for their usual race, and it passed in much of a blur.  Rin had won, as to be expected, but there wasn’t that sense of finality in it that had happened when they’d raced a year ago.

            Haru’s skin had been buzzing with the energy that always came with racing Rin, and Rin was almost physically vibrating from it.

            Rin was the one to initiate it at first, of course.  He’d let out a whoop and grabbed Haru by his goggles, dragging him in and…

            It was awkward.  Haru had dreamed several times – ok since he was a child – of what it would feel like to have Rin’s lips against his own.  They were chapped despite the water and still tasted of chlorine, even through his own closed mouth.  In Haru’s dreams, he’d always imagined that their kiss would feel the same as racing.  That his heart would beat faster.  That his lips would tingle and he’d give in to Rin.  Sometimes he imagined them kissing in a pool of cherry blossoms, because Rin would like that.

            But this wasn’t like that at all.  It was just a kiss, more of a bumping of lips if he was honest, and when Rin drew away, he was frowning.

            “Huh,” Rin had said finally, when the water around them had stilled and their breathing had evened out.  “I thought that would feel…”

            Relief had rushed through Haru then.  He loved Rin, he always would, but he wasn’t _in love_ with Rin.  Not anymore.  “Yeah,” he agreed, smile on his lips.  Which was silly, they were rejecting each other.  “Me too.”

            He’d given Rin a hug before he left though, leaving the redhead a spluttering mess.  “Thanks,” he’d whispered into the chlorine soaked strands at the base of Rin’s neck.  The other had muttered something in response that sounded something like “it was just a race…” but they both knew that Haru was thanking him for more than that.

            Rin had threatened him with castration if Haru so much as breathed about this kiss to anyone else, but it wasn’t like there was anyone he had wanted to tell at the time.

            It irritates him that Makoto can’t read his mind right now.  And it irritates him more that he doesn’t know how to tell Makoto what he’s really thinking.  He’s never had to do it before, and he really doesn’t want to start now.  So instead, he just lets the silence cover them again, awkward and tense, until they reach the point on the stairs where they part ways.  Iwatobi doesn’t have practice tomorrow, and Haru hadn’t realized that meant he wouldn’t have an excuse to see Makoto.  Until now.

            They pause, both awkward, though for different reasons.  “Do you want to…get lunch?”  Makoto breaks the silence first.  He’s not looking at Haru, his eyes focused somewhere on the side, and he’s rubbing the back of his head like there’s an itch there that won’t go away.  “Tomorrow, I mean.”

            “Sure.”  Haru doesn’t look at Makoto when he responds.  It’s stupid.  Neither of them are looking at each other; they’re just standing there on the stairs like they didn’t used to see each other here every day.  Haru’s hand twitches in his pocket, and it’s like the unseen movement prompts Makoto to action.

            “Well, see ya then.”  He’s raising his hand in farewell, and his face is back to its usual Makoto mask; the one he wears when he doesn’t want anyone other than Haru reading the turmoil beneath it.

            Haru watches him go, hands clenched into fists at his sides.  They’ve been apart for so long that he doesn’t know what Makoto’s thinking either.

* * *

 

            Haru waits for Makoto in his bathtub again, childishly ignoring the knocking on the door again until he hears the other come around the back.  He still doesn’t know why he’s doing this.  His skin is starting to prune from waiting so long in the water.  He’d gotten cold enough and his legs had cramped up enough to want out an hour ago.

            But when Makoto enters, Haru makes a show of not wanting to leave the small space until Makoto extends his hand.  He lets out a long suffering sigh that he doesn’t mean before accepting it.

            Huh.  He’d never noticed how warm Makoto’s hands were until now.  Haru stares down at their clasped hands, as if expecting an explanation for how long they’d felt like this, until Makoto finally breaks contact.  There’s a pink blush on the other’s face when Haru looks up.

            “You should get dressed.”  And Makoto’s not looking at him again, instead seeming content to stare at the porcelain behind the toilet.  “We’re heading out for lunch.”

            He wants to ask Makoto why he keeps refusing to look at him.  Why his hands are so warm.  If Haru’s are just cold today.  But he and Makoto don’t _ask_ each other questions, so instead he just nods and heads into his room to change for lunch.

            Haru stands, staring at his dresser for a full five minutes before opening.  He doesn’t understand his own hesitation.  There’s no reason for him to _not know_ what to wear for lunch with Makoto.  Regardless, when he finally opens his dresser, he tosses aside a full three shirts before finally settling on one that will do well enough.  It shouldn’t even matter; he’s going to have to wear a jacket over it anyway.  He hesitates before pulling on his pants, thinks better of it, and changes out of his swim suit into real underwear.

            They feel strange, shorter and looser than he’s used to.  He walks out of his room, fidgeting with his jeans, when he stops just short of entering the living room.  When was the last time he’d even _worn_ real underwear anyway?  He can’t remember.

            He’s scratching his head, wondering why the hell this is so important for him to know anyway, when Makoto’s voice sounds out from much closer than Haru’s expecting.  “Hey, Haru, are you almost ready or should I –“

            His words are cut off as he turns the corner and almost nearly runs into Haru himself.  Makoto’s eyes widen, and Haru can feel the same deer-in-the-headlights look come over himself.  He looks strange, he knows it.  Makoto can tell that he’s wearing underwear and not his swimsuit.  It was a stupid idea, he should go change…

            But then Makoto’s expression softens into the one he usually gives Haru, his eyes crinkling at the edges when he smiles.  “Ah, sorry, Haru didn’t see you there.  Are you ready?”

            “Yeah.”  He looks away and is irrationally irritated when Makoto walks away without grabbing his hand.  They don’t normally hold hands outside of when Makoto helps him out of the water.  That’s probably why Haru’s never noticed how warm Makoto normally is.

            He doesn’t bother to lock up when they leave.  It’s not like anyone’s going to break in and steal anything anyway, this is _Iwatobi_ not Tokyo.

            They walk in mostly silence, but when they reach the stairs, Makoto heads up them instead of down.  It’s only then that Haru realizes he has no idea where they’re going.  He doesn’t ask Makoto, though, and it takes a heartbeat for the other to answer his unasked question.  “Rei told me about this place.  I’d never heard of it before, but I guess it’s pretty good.”

            Satisfied that they haven’t _entirely_ lost the ability to communicate without words, Haru speeds up till he’s alongside Makoto.  He doesn’t even have to think his next question before Makoto answers it.  “Rei wasn’t sure if they have mackerel though.  I thought it might be nice to try it anyway though, since we’ve never been before…”

            Haru isn’t too bothered by the lack of mackerel.  He eats mackerel every day, sometimes even for every meal.  Missing it every once in a while won’t kill him, as Rin’s told him a thousand times.

            The restaurant turns out to be a hole in the wall place that Haru would’ve walked by if it weren’t for Makoto leading them inside.  “It’s a good thing I asked for directions,” Makoto states, holding the door open for him, “or else I would’ve walked right past.”

            The inside looks more like it belongs to someone’s house than it does like a restaurant.  Sure, there are tables and chairs instead of couches and futons, but they’re mismatched and haphazardly placed with barely enough room to pass between them.

            There are a few people here already: a couple in their mid-twenties, some high school students on a date, and an elderly couple sitting by the window.  Haru realizes with a start that all the tables have only two chairs, as if this place is only a place pairs would enter.

            Makoto seems to have the same realization as him and turns to Haru, horror on his face.  “I didn’t realize this was a place for couples.  Rei had only mentioned the food before, I didn’t think…”  He clears his throat and lowers his voice, though no one seems all that interested in their conversation.  “We can go somewhere else if you’d like.  Somewhere that we know has mackerel.”

            “It’s fine,” Haru insists, shocked with the firmness in his own voice.  “We’re already here.”

            Even if he wants to say more, wants to somehow find a way to verbalize that he doesn’t want to change plans when it’s clear that Makoto went through all this trouble to find this place, he doesn’t know how.  But even if he could find the words, it doesn’t matter, because a waiter is approaching them now, dressed in a western suit.  The outfit doesn’t match the rest of the décor, Haru notes absently.

            “Just the two of you?”  He asks, smiling the wide fake smile of those in the service industry.

            “Uh,” Makoto gives Haru one last questioning look before responding to the man.  “Yeah.  Yes.  Just the two of us.”

            Something flickers across the waiter’s face, but before Haru can figure out what it is, the man is leading them through the maze made up of tables and chairs.  He leads them back to an area Haru couldn’t quite see from the door and shows them to a table near the window.  “Will this do?”

            They’re tucked mostly away from the other patrons, the only people Haru can see is the elderly couple through the drape that hangs between their table and the rest of the restaurant.  “Yes,” Makoto answers, knowing Haru won’t speak up.  “Thank you.”

            The waiter disappears, and Makoto takes the chair with his back to the rest of the restaurant, leaving Haru to sit with his to the back wall.  “Are you sure this is ok?”  Makoto asks once they’re settled.

            Haru wants to snap back something about how, if it wasn’t ok, then he wouldn’t have sat down, but then he notices the way Makoto’s hands are fidgeting nervously on the table.  He stares at the other’s fingers, and Makoto doesn’t notice, just keeps fidgeting without making eye contact until the waiter returns with two glasses of ice water and menus.

            It’s written in English, and Haru almost panics for a moment – where’s Rin when you need him? – until he sees the Japanese translation on the back.  It takes a quick glance through the menu to reveal the lack of mackerel, though for some reason he doesn’t mind.

            “Ah, they don’t have mackerel,” Makoto laments.  There’s a quaver in his voice that Haru doesn’t think he’s ever noticed before.  When he looks over at him, Makoto’s staring at the menu, one finger tapping soundlessly on his still full water glass.  He seems to feel the weight of Haru’s gaze on him, though, and lifts his eyes.  “Is that ok?”

            He’d already said it was ok at least three times earlier, but Makoto doesn’t seem to register that _yes, everything’s fine, I’m just happy to be with you_.  Clearly he’s going to actually have to vocalize it for Makoto to understand.  “It’s good to try new things.”

            There’s something that’s almost relief on Makoto’s face, but at least he drops the subject.  The problem is that they don’t have anything to talk about now.  Well, that’s not quite true.  Haru can ask Makoto about his classes and if he misses swimming and if he’s made any friends other than Yamazaki.  And Haru can tell Makoto all about his swim training and his own classes and how he doesn’t have time to draw for fun anymore and he kind of misses it.  But…they don’t.

            They don’t normally have to talk at all to enjoy each other’s company.  Silence between him and Makoto has never been tense like silence between him and Rin.  He’s never felt the need to fill it with something.  It had always been comfortable and warm.  Like a blanket.  This time, though, it is awkward, and Haru finds himself immensely glad when the waiter returns to take their order.

            He orders meat, much to Makoto’s obvious surprise.  He eats meat sometimes, when he has to, he just doesn’t like to eat it as much as Rin does.  Today, though, steak sounds good, and this is a western styled restaurant, so it’ll probably be good.  Rin’s always ranting about how Australians know how to make a better steak than Japanese.

            “Rin would be proud of you,” Makoto smiles when the waiter leaves.  He has that fake Makoto mask on again, and _why were they on the subject of Rin again_?

            Haru huffs in irritation.  “He’s not here.”

            “No…”  Makoto agrees, that sad edge making its way back into his smile.  “He’s pretty far away, isn’t he?”

            Is this what they’ve come to?  Talking about Rin and sidestepping Makoto’s real inner thoughts, leaving Haru floundering?  He’s no good at this.  He doesn’t understand what Makoto wants.  Doesn’t know why Makoto won’t just _tell_ him.

            “Rin’s not here.”  He repeats instead, firmer in his intonation.  He wants the meaning to get across.  That Rin doesn’t have a place at this restaurant he came to with Makoto.  That Rin’s in Australia pursuing his dreams and probably sending sappy emails to Yamazaki every night.  That Rin can do what he wants, and that’s all well and good because he’s _not here_ and Haru doesn’t wish that he would swoop in and replace Makoto.  Like Makoto seems to think he does.

            At least Makoto seems to get the memo that Rin isn’t the right topic of conversation, though Haru gets the feeling the other thinks it’s a sore spot more than anything else.  They don’t fall back into their comfortable silence that Haru enjoys though.  It’s awkward for a while, and he’s relieved when the food comes and they can use that as an excuse for not speaking to each other.

            The food is good, even though it’s not mackerel.  Haru enjoys it immensely, until he opens his eyes to a fork in front of him holding white noodles and a piece of shrimp.  Makoto’s smile is almost back to normal now, and at least he’s facing Haru.  “You should try it.”

            He’s meant to use his own fork or maybe plop it on his plate and eat it later.  Haru knows that.  But he leans in regardless and takes a bite straight from the fork.

            Makoto’s response is immediate and satisfying.  “W-wha…Haru…what are you –“  Out of the corner of his eye, Haru spots the waiter disappear back to the other side of the curtain.

            He shrugs, ignoring the flush high in the other’s cheeks.  “It was easier.”

            There’s more spluttering from the other side of the table, more protests about how _Haru you shouldn’t do that in public_ and _what if I was sick_?

            “Then you wouldn’t have offered me food from your plate,” Haru states matter-of-factly.  Makoto isn’t rude.  And he isn’t careless.  He wouldn’t do something that could potentially negatively impact Haru’s swimming career.

            “Well…that’s true…”  Makoto allows, finally quieting down and focusing on his own plate.

            Haru cuts a piece of meat off his steak and offers it in front of Makoto, the same way the other had to him.  Makoto’s eyes are wide when he looks up at it.  In all their time together, has Haru ever offered to share his food from his plate with Makoto?  Nagisa and Rin would just take without asking, but Makoto…He racks his brain but can’t remember.

            “It’s good,” Haru prompts, snapping Makoto out of his daze.  The other gives him a smile, shaking along the edges, and takes the steak off Haru’s fork, pulling it off with his own and slipping it into his mouth.

            Irrational irritation is a feeling Haru’s going to have to learn to get used to when it comes to Makoto, apparently.  “Mmm,” the other smiles at him between bites.  “It is good.”

            They go silent after that, only broken by the sounds of silverware clinking on the dishes.  It’s less awkward this time, though, and Haru lets out a tension he didn’t realize he’d been carrying in his shoulders.

            The waiter is exceptionally polite when he takes their plates away, though he doesn’t look at Haru at all.  Makoto doesn’t seem to notice, all friendliness like he usually is when they encounter strangers.  They don’t order dessert, though he sees Makoto eyeing the menu wistfully.  Haru’s in training after all.

            Makoto insists on paying for both of them, and Haru decides to not argue.  Mostly because he left his wallet in his bedroom.  That’s probably why Makoto offered in the first place.  He left his cell phone in there as well.  Along with his house key.

            They step out of the restaurant, hesitation in the lines of Makoto’s body as he looks around them.  Haru doesn’t want lunch to end yet.  He doesn’t know when another excuse like this will come, so he starts walking in the exact opposite direction of their houses.  There’s a beat, but then he can hear Makoto’s footsteps behind him.

            Makoto doesn’t ask for an explanation, just wears the relieved expression mirroring Haru’s innermost thoughts.  His fingers itch, empty all of a sudden, so he shoves his hand in his pocket and ignores the glance he gets from Makoto.

            It’s cold out, cold enough that Haru can see their breath.  He used to hate the cold, used to hate the knowledge that he couldn’t swim outside when it got like this.  Hated the holidays too, and the memories that came along with them.

            “We’re going to the temple for the new year.  My family and I, I mean.”  Makoto huffs, his words coming out in puffs of smoke.  “If you want to join.”

            Makoto never asks about stuff like this.  Always just offers in a way that Haru could easily decline with a shrug of his shoulders.  “Yeah,” he agrees instead of the nod he usually gives.

            They wander around like that for a while.  Walking just close enough that their shoulders almost brush but not so close that they actually do.  The sun starts to set, though, and Makoto makes the necessary excuses of needing to go spend time with his family.

            They part ways closer to Haru’s house, a strange change of routine.  He’s used to walking away from Makoto, but this time he’s the one who has to walk away first.  It’s not a feeling he particularly enjoys.

* * *

 

            There’s no excuse to meet with Makoto tomorrow.  He knows they’ve been friends for long enough that he doesn’t need one, but something changed now that they’re in university and Haru feels strange stopping by.  He surprises himself by hunting for his phone and digging through his contacts till he finds Yamazaki’s mail address.

            He ignores all his other messages and shoots Yamazaki one asking if it’s ok if he comes over.  It’s a good ten minutes before he gets the affirmative response.

            Yamazaki and him aren’t really friends, at least not the way he’s friends with Rei and Nagisa and Kou.  But they’ve gotten better since the swim season ended.  They ran into each other a few times before and just after graduation, and there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them.  They don’t bring up what happened last year – any of it – and everything goes fine.

            Haru rings the doorbell once to the Yamazaki residence, not fifty times because he’s not a gorilla.  When the other answers, he’s still in his sleeping clothes.  “Nanase,” the other greets, expression guarded.

            “Yamazaki.”  They’ve never visited each other before, so he can see how this would be unusual.  He slips off his shoes without explanation though and steps inside before saying anything else.  “Congratulations.”

            If it were anyone else, they would’ve been confused at the random congratulations from him, but Yamazaki is similar to him in ways that Makoto can never be, and Haru knows he understands.  “Thanks,” he looks away, and Haru catches red at the tips of the other’s ears.  “What do you want?”  The words don’t come out as scathing as Haru’s sure the other intends.

            “What time do you call Rin today?”  He gets straight to the point.  He doesn’t know, not for a fact, that the two of them talk daily.  But Rin’s a romantic, and Haru would bet a year’s supply of mackerel that they do.

            From Yamazaki’s raised eyebrow, he knows he’s right.  “Not for another 30 minutes,” the other finally allows.  He doesn’t ask what Haru wants.  Doesn’t ask why he needs to talk to Rin.  Their silent understanding rivals his and Makoto’s from the day before, and that depresses him just a little bit.

            Yamazaki offers him some tea, and Haru drinks it, sitting with his feet under the kotatsu while Yamazaki disappears to grab his laptop.  They still have plenty of time to sit in silence, but Haru doesn’t mind.  Talking to fill the silence is Rin’s thing, after all.  “Have you seen the US vs. Australia meet from this year yet?”  Yamazaki asks him as his computer boots.

            Haru shakes his head.  He doesn’t watch professional swim meets unless Rin or his coach make him.  “It’s good,” Yamazaki continues, sipping from his own tea.  “Rin knows a few of the swimmers on the Australian side.”

            “Hmm.”  Haru nods, not sure what else he’s supposed to say.  Of course Rin would know professional swimmers down in Australia.  That’s the whole point of him training down there; to swim with the best.

            They sip their tea, and Yamazaki taps on his keyboard until the thirty minutes mercifully pass, the ending marked with the tone coming from the laptop.  Haru scoots around the kotatsu so he’s seated next to the other, and Yamazaki answers.

            “God, Sou,” Rin’s voice blares tinnily from the speaker.  “You have no idea –“

            “Nanase’s here,” Yamazaki cuts off before Rin can get further.  It doesn’t sound embarrassing, but there’s pink on Yamazaki’s ears again, and Rin flushes a bright red.

            “Haru?!”  He exclaims, leaning forward.  Yamazaki angles the computer so the camera can catch them both now, and Haru gets a good view of the way Rin’s face explodes into a smile at the sight.  “I didn’t know you were going to visit Sousuke!”

            He looks too excited, and all the attention is embarrassing, even if he’s not in love with the redhead anymore.  Haru looks away.  “Hey Rin.”

            “It wasn’t planned,” Yamazaki adds, as if Rin would get upset about them planning something without him knowing.  He probably would.  Rin’s matured so much in some ways and so little in others.

            Haru doesn’t say anything else, not sure how to bring up what he’s thinking to Rin, so the redhead does what he’s best at, second only to swimming.  He fills the silence.  “So yesterday at practice, we had this set…”

            Haru tunes him out.  Rin can talk about swimming day and night, that he knows from experience, but it’s nice, hearing his voice again.  It’s soothing in a way that reminds him of the pool.  Rin rambles about his practices, broken by Yamazaki’s _hmm_ s of agreement and occasional encouraging comment.  It isn’t until Rin’s voice peters off that he realizes they’re both looking at him now.  “What?”

            “I asked you what the occasion was,” Rin repeats, impatience laced in his words.

            Haru shrugs, but Rin isn’t having any of that.

            “Come on, it must be a big deal for you to go all the way to Sano to meet with Sousuke just to listen to me talk about holiday practices.”

            Haru glances over at Yamazaki, a ghost of a look, but the other understands.  “I’m going to make some more tea,” he announces as he stands up.

            Rin looks like he’s going to protest, but Yamazaki gives him a look and he closes his mouth.  Even they’ve been able to master the art of the silent communication.

            Haru waits until Yamazaki’s disappeared into the kitchen before opening his mouth.  He pauses, then closes it, not knowing what to say.    

            “Come on, Haru.  Spill it.”  The irritation is back in Rin’s voice, but he can hear the underlying concern it covers.

            It’s that concern which finally loosens his tongue.  “Makoto’s being strange.”  That’s really the only way he knows how to say it.

            Expressions flicker rapidly over Rin’s face before it settles into a carefully blank mask.  “What do you mean, strange?”  He asks, each word spoken as if it had been contemplated over a thousand times.

            He doesn’t know how to explain it properly, but Rin’s giving him that look and Yamazaki can only pretend to make tea for so long, so he has to say something.  “He’s helping this underclassman out of the water instead of me.”  Even as he says the words, they sound childish and whiney.  Rin brings that out of him.  Somehow Rin brings out the best and worst of Haru simultaneously.  It’s part of why they could never work together; Rin’s a storm, and Haru’s just left to be buffeted by the constant waves.

            There’s a smile playing at the corner of Rin’s lips, a sign the mask he’s wearing is cracking, and that irritates Haru beyond belief.  “And it’s not just that.  He’s always talking about you now.  Like I miss you so much and that’s why I’m mad at him.  Like I wish he was _you_ and you were here instead of him and…”  Haru trails off then, realizing that he’d let out the equivalent to a string of insults at Rin.

            To the other’s credit, Rin doesn’t look all that mad.  He looks…pitying.  “Haru have you told him about what happened…you know, that day?”

            Haru shakes his head adamantly.  Rin had been very clear.  They weren’t supposed to talk about that, and quite frankly he doesn’t see the point.

            “See that’s the problem.  You have to tell him.”  And isn’t that just like Rin.  To say one thing, then appear less than a year later and say the complete opposite.  “I told Sousuke, before.  And now we’re…well…”  Rin looks embarrassed, face flushing again.

            “I know,” Haru says.  As fun as it is to see Rin squirm over silly things sometimes, they only have so much time to talk.  Rin’s still one of his best friends, but Haru wouldn’t take away the rare time the other has to talk to his boyfriend.

            If possible, Rin flushes even darker.  “Oh.  Um…anyway like I said you should just tell Makoto.  It’ll clear it up and then…you know…you can get together.”

            “What?”  Haru asks, frowning.  Get together…with Makoto?  Even in his mind the words tumble over each other in a strange jumble, like a newborn foal trying to stand on its own.

            “You know.  Date.  That’s what you want, right?  That’s why you’re all jealous over that underclassman.”

            “I don’t want to date Makoto,” Haru tells him, his tongue heavy over the words.

            Rin just gives him that pitying look again.  “Haru, look, I’ve been where you are.  You should’ve seen me when Sousuke was giving Ai all this attention and helping with his stroke.  It took all I could to play it normal so no one would notice.”

            “You didn’t hide it very well.”  The deep baritone comes from behind Haru, making him jump.  Yamazaki sits down, cup of tea in hand, as Rin splutters on the other side of the screen.

            Haru looks back and forth between them, at the barely concealed smile on Yamazaki’s face and Rin, bags under his eyes from training, who goes through all the trouble to talk to him every day.  “You two are gross,” he says out loud, just causing Rin to renew his protests, though they’re directed at him now.

            He shakes his head and pushes his way out of the kotatsu, standing up.  “Thank you for the tea,” he addresses Yamazaki first before leaning down to look Rin in the eye.  “I’ll see you on the international stage.”

            “You better be ready!”  Rin declares, always up for a challenge.  Haru cracks a soft smile at him.  Despite the clearly intense training and his no doubt hard classes, he seems happy, and that’s all Haru’s ever wanted for him.

            He waves his goodbye to Yamazaki and heads to the entryway to slip on his shoes, ignoring the conversation going on in the other room, the other two clearly unaware that he can still hear them.  “Don’t push him, Rin.  He’ll get there on his own.”

            “It’s Haru.  If I don’t tell him, he’ll never figure it out.”

            He closes the door behind him a bit more harshly than he originally intended.

* * *

 

            Haru pulls his jacket closer to his body.  He didn’t go straight home from Yamazaki’s.  Instead, as soon as he’d gotten back to Iwatobi, he ended up wandering to the beach and watching the ocean for a while.  Then standing turned to sitting and…well that’s that he supposes.

            He’s surprised he’s not afraid by the sight of the vast body of water in front of him.  Makoto’s father-figure died at sea and he’s scarred so bad he can barely bring himself to go in the ocean even now.  But they’d both nearly drowned their first training camp, and he still finds himself wishing it was warm enough to swim in the ocean.

            There’s probably something wrong with him.

            He just huffs out a smoke of a breath and watches it fade in front of him.  Talking to Rin didn’t help at all.  He’s not sure why he thought it would.  Rin’s rarely, if ever, helpful with anything not related to swimming.

            Except when he is.

            Haru tucks his legs closer to his body for warmth.  He doesn’t want to date Makoto, he tells himself again, the words sounding wrong even in his own head.  That comes with all sorts of complications and they can’t even manage to make time for each other as friends.  How much more difficult would it be if they were dating?

            The answer is…that he doesn’t know.  That kiss he’d shared with Rin half a year ago is the only romantic encounter Haru’s ever had.  He probably won’t even recognize love when it hits him on the head.

            There’s a bump on his shoulder, and Haru looks up to see Makoto smiling down at him, extending a steaming mug of something.  Probably tea.  Automatically he reaches out to take it, and the other sits down next to him on the sand.

            “There isn’t a view like this in Tokyo,” Makoto finally says after a few minutes of silence.  Haru’s still just holding his cup, using it as warmth in lieu of gloves, and refusing to look at Makoto.  “You weren’t home when I stopped by,” he continues when Haru doesn’t say anything.  “I thought you might be out here.”

            He doesn’t say when he stopped by, Haru notices.  He wonders vaguely how many times Makoto wandered up and down the beach looking for him.  Given the red tinge to Makoto’s nose, he would guess quite a while.  His stomach dips.  “I went out.”

            “Ahh…”  Makoto nods, sadness tinging the edges of his knowing expression.  “To Yamazaki’s, right?  To speak to Rin.”

            For a moment, Haru opens his mouth to ask how Makoto knows, how he figured it out, but then he closes it.  This is Makoto; he’s supposed to know everything going on in Haru’s mind before even Haru does.  The silence is admission enough, and Makoto smiles, twisted.  His normal mask is slipping.  “It was just a guess.”

            Makoto’s not looking at him, eyes instead on the ocean in front of them.  Outwardly, he seems calm, but Haru knows him well enough to sense the fragile cracking just under the surface.  His heart sinks dangerously, and he opens his mouth before he can stop himself.  “Rin and I kissed.”

            His eyes widen at his own admission, but Makoto doesn’t meet them with his own.  Instead his head dips a little lower, eyes to the sand now instead of the sea in front of them.  Haru continues, words stumbling over themselves to get out.  “It was just before graduation.  It just happened.  We were racing and it was like a high and he tasted like chlorine and he needed Chap Stick and…”  He stops himself, fist clenched.  This isn’t helping at all.

            Haru licks his lips and tries again.

            “You don’t need to explain,” Makoto stops him before he can say anything.  He’s still looking down at the sand instead of at Haru, though, and his voice isn’t as steady as it normally is.  “I always knew it would be you and Rin in the end.”

            Haru frowns because that’s not what he meant at all and besides, hadn’t they _just_ talked about how Rin’s with Yamazaki now?  “Makoto,” he starts, but before he can finish the other is standing up already, false cheer on his face.

            “I really should be getting home.  Drink your tea before it gets cold, Haru.”

            “No wa- Makoto!”  Haru shouts after him, but the other is already all but sprinting away.  He gets to his feet too hastily, spilling scalding tea all over his hand.  “Ow!”  He drops the cup, letting it spill uselessly on the sand.  He’d leave it there, come back later and pick it up, but Makoto’s already long gone, and he can hear Rei’s voice in the back of his head, scolding him for littering, so he grabs the soaked cup, already filled with sand, and tosses it before heading back to the stairs.

* * *

 

            The doorbell rings six times before Makoto’s mom finally answers.  Haru’s standing on the outside, nose red and raw from the cold, still scalded hand tucked in his pocket.  Mrs. Tachibana gives him a shocked look before ushering him inside.  “Haruka-chan!  How wonderful to see you.  Makoto isn’t back yet, but perhaps you’d like to wait for him inside where it’s warm?”

            He’s too cold to refuse, so Haru lets himself get ushered inside the house and towards the kotatsu.  He huddles under it for warmth as the twins dance around with their usual chant of “Haru-onii!  Haru-onii!” until their mother scolds them for harassing him.  He doesn’t know how to tell them that he doesn’t mind.  He’s never minded.  In fact, he thinks of Ren and Ran as his own siblings, though he’s never said as much out loud.

            The twins have calmed down and are playing some video game where the object is to push each other off some floating platform when the door finally opens and Haru hears Makoto’s voice.  “I’m home…”

            He stills where he sits, the kotatsu suddenly too warm.  His hands are sweating.  Haru wipes his palms on his pants and stands up hastily, suddenly twitchy.  He doesn’t have time to figure out what to do with himself though, because Makoto’s already walking in.

            “Oh, Makoto, good timing.  Haruka-chan came just a few minutes ago to visit.”  Mrs. Tachibana chatters in the background, but both of them ignore her.

            Makoto looks like shit.  On the surface, everything seems the same as normal, but Haru looks closely enough to see tracks down the other’s cheeks, and he knows Makoto doesn’t cry for just anything.  The other’s knuckles are white where they’re squeezing into fists at his sides, and for a crazy moment Haru’s reminded of a couple years prior, standing in the courtyard looking at Rin.  The redhead hadn’t looked much different then than Makoto does now.

            He wonders if Makoto’s going to try to punch him too.

            The orca breaks into a deceptively calm smile, eyes closed.  “I’ll walk you home, Haru.”  It’s not a question.

            “Yeah,” he agrees, ignoring Mrs. Tachibana’s protests in the background that he should at least stay for dinner.  He makes his way to the door and pulls on his shoes and jacket, exiting the door that Makoto holds open for him.

            The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife as they make their way up the stairs to Haru’s place.  He expects the other to wait for him to get inside, but once they get there, Makoto turns away.  “See you later, then.”

            “Wait!”  His arm jerks out and he grabs Makoto’s wrist, ignoring the feeling of déjà vu.  Makoto doesn’t turn around.  “I…”  His throat is suddenly very dry.  “I need to talk to you.”

            The other doesn’t resist.  He just makes a half turn and shrugs as if to say _go on_.

            “I’m…I think you should come inside.”

            He can’t be sure, but Haru thinks he can hear a sigh just below Makoto’s breath.  “Just for a bit,” the other agrees softly, placating, and Haru finally releases his wrist.  He’d left the door unlocked earlier, so he pushes it open and stumbles inside, kicking off his shoes in a rush.

            He’s cold again, the warmth of the Tachibana’s kotatsu seeped away by the chill outside, so he leads them to his own and sits under it.  Makoto joins him, sitting across from him and looking at the table instead of at Haru.

            “I’m no good at words,” he starts, choosing his sentences carefully.  Makoto can’t read his mind anymore, so it’s especially important that he get his thought across properly.  He takes a deep breath.  “I’m not in love with Rin.”  Makoto finally looks at him at that, confusion clear on his face.  “Well, at least not anymore.  I thought I was for the longest time, but then we kissed and…and I love him but I’m not _in love_ with him.”  It sounds ridiculous out loud, but there’s a clear distinction to Haru.

            He expects Makoto to jump in now, to tell him that he understands, that everything is cleared up and all the strange months they’ve had apart mean nothing.  But the other just stays silent, watching him with wide, wary eyes, as if he’s afraid that Haru will disappear at any moment.

            “Why don’t you ever visit me anymore?”  The question surprises even Haru.  He hadn’t meant to ask that.  But as the words sink in, he realizes that he means it.  That most of the irritation from the past few days could’ve been solved if he’d just seen Makoto more often than, well, never.

            Makoto opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, looking more like a fish than an orca, and that just irritates him more.  “You spend all your time with Yamazaki and in Iwatobi with Kou and Rei and Nagisa and you never come see me anymore.  I have to set an alarm to get out of the bath to get to class on time.”

            Makoto lets out a chuckle at that one, though it sounds like more of a snort than true laughter.

            “Rin trains all the time and has classes and studying, but he still talks to Yamazaki every day.  And you can’t even be bothered to come over for dinner.”  He feels like Rin right now too, unnecessarily emotional, words coming out without any kind of filter on them.  He clenches his fist against the wood.  “I thought we meant something to each other.”

            Makoto’s hand reaches out for his own before pausing.  “Of course you mean something to me, Haru.”  There’s something too serious, too raw in Makoto’s words, and Haru has to look up and meet his eyes.  “Isn’t it obvious?”  Makoto continues, looking just as emotionally devastated as Haru feels.  “You’ve always been the most important, Haru.”

            Haru swallows, throat thick.  Makoto doesn’t say the words.  He doesn’t have to; that’s as clear of a confession as Haru’s ever heard.  _I don’t want to date Makoto_.  The statement feels distinctly wrong in his mind, and, determined, Haru crawls out of the kotatsu and scoots closer to Makoto.  The brunette flushes and shrinks back, but Haru grabs him by his wrist again, stopping him from going too far.

            “What are you doing, Haru?  Didn’t you understand what I just said?  I’m –“

            “I want to try something,” Haru interrupts, focused as he is in a race.  He leans in, fingers tightening when Makoto flinches away, only relaxing again when the other stays still. 

            He doesn’t bother to close his eyes; it’s over too fast to need to.  It’s just a brushing of his lips against Makoto’s.  Shorter than his kiss with Rin.  But this one feels different.  Even with their mouths both closed, he can tell that Makoto doesn’t taste like chlorine.  His lips aren’t as chapped, despite being out in the cold for most of the day.  In fact, they’re warm.  Warm like his hand when he helps Haru out of the bathtub.  Warm like a blanket.  A kotatsu.

            So Haru leans in again, this time closing his eyes.

            It’s longer this time, more lingering.  Makoto’s lips remind him of sunshine on a summer day.  Of a long soak after a longer run.  Of swimming in the ocean.  So he kisses him again.  And again.  And another time, just because he has to be sure.

            Makoto’s hand escapes from the confines of Haru’s grip without any contest.  At first, Haru thinks he’s going to try and run away again, but instead he just feels warmth on the back of his head, and Makoto’s fingers thread themselves through his hair.

            It’s warmth and comfort and happiness and it feels a thousand times different than he’d thought it would.  They break apart and Haru finds himself lying back against his own floor, cocooned by Makoto.  He wonders if he’ll ever be happier than he is right now.  It’s a completely different feeling from racing Rin.  Less about the rush and speed.  It’s about going slow and taking their time.

            “I’m so happy right now,” Makoto tells him, voice buried in the fabric of Haru’s chest.  He’s vocalizing Haru’s innermost thoughts again, Haru thinks, smiling.

            He doesn’t have to agree, doesn’t have to say _yeah me too_ , because he knows Makoto can feel it.  Knows Makoto can hear it in his heartbeat, feel it in his sweaty palms.  So instead he says, “Stay for dinner.”

            “Yeah,” Makoto nods against his sternum, words breathed against his skin, and Haru knows that they’re talking about more than just dinner.

            Later, much later, when they’ve untangled themselves from each other and Makoto’s leaning against the counter watching Haru cook, Haru finally tells him the reason for his revelation in the first place.  “I don’t like Takahashi,” he states simply, without any preamble.

            Makoto chuckles, warm and comforting in its familiarity.  “I know.”


End file.
